


Like Snow in September

by jadedandboring



Series: Like Snow in September [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, American Harry, British Louis, M/M, idek, sorrynotsorry, this is what happens when I listen to music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:07:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadedandboring/pseuds/jadedandboring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, Louis holidays with his family in America. And every year, he's bored out of his mind. But this year, there's a visual feast. Maybe this summer can be saved after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trixietraci](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixietraci/gifts).



> So. This one day last week, Summer Love came on in my car. And this idea hit my like a ton of bricks.
> 
> Be gentle. It's my first story in a while.

Louis has had quite enough of airplanes and traveling, thanks very much. 

Okay, it isn’t the airplanes that bother him, or even the traveling part, so much as it is doing all of this with his _family_. 

It’s just. Five sisters and a very smallish brother. It’s exhausting. And he’d appreciate it immensely if his mum could stop making googly eyes and kissy noises at Dan. He gets that they’re in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, but honestly.

All he wants to do after check in is get to a bed and have a proper lie in tomorrow. They’re here for three months after all, and despite what his mum says, he doesn’t have to pack all of his summer planning into the first day.

Check in is a nightmare. The girls start to complain about Louis having his own room this year, but shut up when they see the boy who will be carting their luggage. 

He’s tall - almost freakishly tall - and has fringe falling in his green eyes. His hair is absurdly long and Louis wonders why the resort is letting him get away with such a shaggy hair cut. 

He’s also flirty, which puts Louis on edge. 

Lottie is over the moon and whispering to Fizzy about how fit this boy is and how old do you think he is? A glare from Louis shuts that down. He’ll not have his baby sister mooning over some bloke all summer. He just won’t.

When Lottie and Fizzy barge into Louis' room after getting Doris and Ernest settled in for the night, they’re going on about the bloke from check in again - _Harry_ , they inform him. 

“He’s just. He’s ridiculously fit, Louis. D’you think he likes me?”

“Charlotte.” The disdain in Louis' voice is thick. “He’s too old for you.”

“He isn’t!” Lottie flops down on the bed and makes a show of ruffling the pillows and bedding around. Louis hates that and she knows it. He smirks, knowing she’ll fix it once he’s said his next. “He _is_ fit, though.”

“Lookit! Knew you were a knob jockey!” 

Louis knows Lottie is joking. But. Well. She needn’t know his true proclivities. 

\---

Johanna wakes Louis up at an ungodly hour the following morning. She claims it will help him with the jet lag, but Louis doesn’t care.

She gives him a Look when he complains about the lack of quality tea at breakfast. He gets another Look when he goes off about the lack of interesting activities. There are makeover classes and book groups and things his mum and sisters will enjoy, but nothing catches his eye. 

Until Fizz points out that there are pick up football games each day. Louis thinks he might be able to deal with that. 

\---

Harry is _everywhere_. 

Literally everywhere. 

He’s behind the omelette bar each morning at breakfast. When Louis accompanies his mum to Mommy and Me swimming with Doris and Ernest, Harry’s teaching swimming to toddlers. At lunch time, he’s on the beach organising volleyball. He passes out cocktails at dinner, hosts a weekly karaoke contest (which Lottie insists on going to, but never _actually_ competing in), plays tennis with old ladies, and - to Louis' dismay - runs around the pitch each day in the most ridiculous kit Louis has ever seen. 

The problem with him being everywhere is that he’s a flirt. And yeah, at first Louis thought Harry was flirting with Lottie, but now it seems as though _he_ might the object of Harry’s affections. Wouldn’t that just be the worst. 

It wouldn’t, not really, but there’s no way that Louis can pretend the thought hasn’t crossed his mind when Lottie goes on about Harry, the cute American who is flirting with her, when she talks to her mates back home. 

Louis can’t deny he thinks Harry is fit. But. He’s smiley and knows Louis' omelette order by the third day. His swimsuit is indecent, which Louis gets to see both at lessons and at volleyball. That, and Harry’s multitude of tattoos which are just obscene. Louis really does have half a mind to speak to management about their appearance standards. 

Harry also has an incredible singing voice. Louis had a gut feeling he would, what with his speaking voice. His current favorite song to sing at karaoke is _Don’t_ by Ed Sheeran. Harry would do that.

As if Louis would ever fuck with Harry’s love. 

And he calls it soccer. Louis wrinkles his nose at the thought.

The thing is, is Harry has become more forward with his flirting. So much so that even Fizzy has noticed Harry doesn’t seem to making eyes at her sister, but rather her brother. And that maybe terrified Louis just a little. 

His sisters don’t need to know that when he was suspended in sixth form for flashing his bum, it was to get the attention of one of the other T-Birds. He feels as though he’s done a stellar job of keeping himself to himself and hiding things from his family. Not that they would be disappointed or even upset if he told them he would much rather have kissed Kenickie than Sandy, but it’s just not. Well it’s not something to bring up at Christmas dinner, is it? _Pass the potatoes would you, Mum, and oh by the way, I enjoying taking it up the arse._

No. That’s not something he is looking forward to. 

Louis swears the eyes are for Lottie. Maybe even Fizzy because Harry seems like the type of boy who wants to give a teenage girl the giggles. It’s quite a bit more difficult to pretend that Harry isn’t intentionally trying to touch Louis when they’re playing footie, though. There was last week when Harry ran full tilt into Louis even though the ball was at the other end of the pitch. Just yesterday, Harry tackled Louis and they ended up in a heap of twisted limbs which Louis was quite sure Harry took too long to help sort out.

So maybe it’s because Harry is just everywhere that Louis is so annoyed when Harry walks into the party tonight. And maybe it’s the liquor Louis has been drinking for the last two hours that gives him the courage to speak to finally speak to Harry.

“Oi. What’re you doin’ here, mate?” Louis doesn’t slur. He doesn’t. 

Harry laughs. Loud. When he throws his head back and laughs again, Louis is irritated when he notices the long lines of Harry’s neck and wonders what it would be like to bite Harry’s Adam’s apple. 

“It’s a party full of _my_ friends. Could ask you what you’re doing here.”

Louis waves a hand in the general direction of the girl who invited him. She’s got a wicked crush on him, which he only knows about because Lottie and Fizzy have made friends with her, and she probably thinks this is a date. “I was invited.”

They stare at each other awkwardly, then speak at the same time. 

“Bloody hell, quit staring.”

“So, you come here every year?”

It wasn’t what Louis expected and he’s stunned. So stunned he answers honestly. “Yeah. Been coming here every year since I was 10.”

Louis explains to his head that it definitely does not notice the way Harry’s eyes crinkle slightly at the corners when his face lights up in that ridiculous, dimple-showing smile. And Louis also has to explain to his stomach that butterflies are not welcome when Harry casually brushes his fingers along the back of Louis' arm. 

It’s all too much. Louis flails, knocking Harry’s drink out of his hand. It spills all over Louis and Harry stands there, annoyingly green eyes wide for a second before grinning slightly. “Oops.”

And Louis, because he is stunned and doesn’t know what else to do, says what he should have said in the first place. “Hi.”

Harry smiles that blinding smile again. “Hi. Name’s Harry, by the way.”

Louis sniffs. “Louis. You’ve been flirting with my sisters for the past several weeks.”

Louis doesn’t feel a sense of tenderness at the comical way Harry’s face changes expressions, as though he’s so terribly confused at what Louis has just said that he’s actually got to take a moment. He doesn’t find the confused expression on Harry’s face adorable. He just doesn’t. It isn’t possible for this boy to be adorable. 

It is possible, though, and the tightening in Louis' groin says as much. 

After several moments of contemplation, Harry laughs again. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” Snatching Louis' drink out of his hand, Harry takes a long drink and looks at Louis over the rim of the cup. “My game is so off if you think I’ve been flirting with your sisters.“

Louis doesn’t quite know how to react to that. He’s uncomfortable, sure. But he’s also intrigued. How is it that Harry _knows_ that Louis would enjoy being flirted with? “Well,” he says.

They stand there awkwardly for a few moments, then Harry blurts, “Well this is awkward. I’m just going to go over,” he waves his hand in the general direction of across the room, “there. Maybe drink my feelings or whatever it is my sister says.”

Louis perks up. “You’ve got a sister.”

Harry nods. “Gemma. Real brat, but I think I’ll keep her.” The affection in Harry’s voice gives away that his thoughts are anything but loving toward his sibling. “You’ve got, what, four sisters?”

“Five,” Louis mutters around the cup he’s stolen back from Harry. “And a brother.”

Harry looks properly baffled. “Wow. What’s that like?”

“Loud,” Louis answers. “Very loud.”

\---

Hours later, Louis' date finds him in the corner, still talking with Harry. He’s momentarily stunned when he realizes how close he and Harry are sitting when his date calls, “Louis. Are you coming or not?” 

Louis has honestly forgotten her name. “Ah. Sorry, love, I’m going to stay for a bit longer.”

The girl rolls her eyes, links arms with the girlfriend she’s been chatting to, and heads off. Louis turns back to Harry and finds Harry has scooted just a touch closer. Their knees are touching now, in fact. And Harry is toying with the frayed knee of Louis' jeans. 

“Touchy, aren’t you?” Louis asks, sniffing. 

Instead of answering, Harry pours another beer into Louis' cup. Louis has lost count of how many drinks he’s had tonight, and well, he doesn’t really care. There is a pretty boy throwing himself at Louis, and Louis is horny. 

“Your skin is so smooth,” Harry says quietly, almost to himself. 

“Oatmeal baths,” Louis deadpans. “They’re the only way to go.”

Harry does that loud laugh again and Louis just. He wants to cry a little. Harry’s laugh is musical. His eyes are like bright spots in the dark room, and Louis is dying to run his hands through Harry’s hair. Instead of reaching out to touch Harry’s hair - which looks absurdly soft, by the way - Louis gulps down the rest of the drink Harry just poured. Frankly, he’s a bit mad at himself for fawning over this bloke. 

Louis tries like hell to list Harry’s flaws and he can’t. There are none. The hair and tattoos Louis found annoying just two weeks ago aren’t so bad now. They’re rather attractive. So is the stubble Harry seems not to realize exists. And the way he wears his shirts open, with only a few buttons buttoned. Like, it should be irritating to Louis, who likes to look put together, but it’s endearing. 

“Harold.”

“It’s Harry. Just Harry.”

“Right. So Harold. Tell me about yourself.” Louis knows they should have gotten to this part of the conversation earlier in the evening, but then he didn’t care about knowing Harry. Now that he’s admitted to himself that he finds Harry attractive, Louis wants to know everything. Especially how he got that scar on his chin. 

“Not much to tell, really,” Harry says. “I was born. Grew up down the street. Still live with my mom and sister. I played soccer in high school. I work at a bakery in the winter.”

“Football.”

Harry looks bewildered. “What?”

“You played football in high school.”

“Nooooo. I played soccer. There were no pads involved at all.” 

Louis is just. He’s angry. “You’re a prat.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“Twat.” Louis huffs a sigh when Harry shakes his head. “Wanker.” Harry shakes his head again. “Oh fuckall. It means you’re an idiot.”

 _That_ one, Harry gets. “I am not an idiot!”

“You call footie soccer, don’t you?”

“It is soccer! FIFA World Cup and all that.”

“Which stands for Fédération Internationale de Football Association. Foot. Ball. What you Americans call football is a disgrace to the game.” 

Harry grins that dimple grin again. “You’re cute when you’re pissed.”

“M’not drunk,” Louis insists. He really isn’t. He’s disturbingly sober, actually. 

“Not drunk,” Harry says, reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair from Louis' forehead. “Angry.”

Louis is no longer in control of this situation. Which is why he doesn’t move when Harry leans in and presses his lips to Louis’, licking into Louis’ mouth when he gasps. Kissing Harry is a bit like what Louis imagines kissing a dog would be like, though he hopes it’s because Harry has had a few drinks this evening. 

It takes a bit of determination on Louis’ part, but he pushes Harry away. “Really, Harold? That’s our first kiss?” 

It takes even more determination to get up and walk away from Harry.

\---


	2. Chapter 2

Things are a lot better than they have been in summers past. Louis knows this. And Louis also knows it’s in large part because he gets to kiss Harry.

Every damn chance he gets. Which, sadly, isn’t often. 

There’s the whole Harry-works-here-thing. There’s also the whole nosey-arse-sisters-who-would-absolutely- _flip_ -if-they-found-out-their-brother-is-kissing-a-bloke-thing, especially given that Lottie still fancies Harry. And there’s the not-quite-ready-to-explain-that-bloke-kissing-thing-to-his-mum-thing.

Louis actually _thinks_ the word sigh just now. He’s far too distracted to be playing footie properly; Harry is out there, kicking the ball around and generally making a fool of himself while managing to appear as though he’s having the most fun ever.

Which, Louis suspects, he is. Harry just has this. Way about him. He throws himself full throttle into everything and gives whatever he’s doing 110 percent. All of the time. Thing is, Louis really only cares about that when he’s at the receiving end of Harry’s enthusiasm. Like when they’re kissing. Or trading handies in the pool’s shower room. 

He could generally do without Harry showing that enthusiasm off, is what he’s saying.

Louis is so thoroughly distracted by Harry’s antics that he doesn’t noticed the girls sneaking up on him. “Admiring the scenery then, Lou?” Lottie whispers in his ear.

“Bugger off, pest.” He pushes her, not hard, but enough to show he means business. 

Fizzy smirks at him. “Admit it. You’re checking out Lottie’s boyfriend.”

Louis tenses. What the actual fuck is his sister going on about? “What the actual fuck are you going on about?”

“Harry asked Lottie to stay after Mum and me lessons the other day. Told her about some fancy party he’s going to be at, then kissed her cheek. As good as asked you to go with him, didn’t he, Lottie?”

Louis can feel his face going dead blank and maybe turning at bit red. First of all, why hasn’t Harry told _him_ about this supposed fancy party? And secondly, what the _actual_ fuck?!

“He’s a wanker, Lottie. Don’t get mixed up with him, yeah?” 

“Who’s a wanker?”

Oh, perfect. This is absolutely perfect. Naturally, Harry would choose that exact moment to walk over to where they’re standing. Lottie snickers. “Lou’s just called you jerk,” Fizzy supplies helpfully. 

“Shut _up_ , Félicité.” Louis is positively steaming, but Harry pays no mind. Instead, he tosses an arm over Louis’ shoulders and grins at the siblings. “Well he’s kind of right in that assessment. I can be a real jerk sometimes.” Harry winks at Louis and gives the girls kisses on their cheeks before heading off.

\---

Louis is either in heaven or in hell, he can’t decide which. Harry is sucking on his neck and everything is perfect.

Louis’ hands are trembling when he reaches for the button on Harry’s jeans. He doesn’t know why. It isn’t like they’ve not done this a dozen times in the past several weeks. There’s just something about now, and about where they are that’s making Louis nervous. Because his mum and Lottie each have a key to his room. 

His hands are shaking so badly that Harry reaches down and flicks his own button open, then pushes his jeans down, exposing his cock to the cool air of the room with a hiss.

And that’s when Louis clams up. His entire body stiffens and he stops reacting to what Harry is doing. Harry’s lost in the moment, so it takes him a minute to notice. “Louis? You okay?”

Still shaking like leaf, Louis snaps. “No, I am not bloody okay, Harold.”

Harry grows sombre, cupping Louis’ cheek in his palm. “What is it? I know I locked the door, but I can check again if you’d like.”

“It isn’t the fucking door I’m worried about! It’s my mum. And sisters. Look, they don’t. They’re not aware of my preferences, and I just.” 

Louis is thoroughly annoyed when Harry barks a laugh. “So you’re worried your mom or sisters will come in and find you, what? Kissing a boy? And do what? Disown you? Is that why you took off like someone was on fire at the party that night and why you won’t normally let me come within five feet of you if I see you around? Louis, I have a huge secret to tell you.”

Louis is still not okay, but his curiosity is piqued. He sniffs. “What?”

“I’ll give you your sisters maybe not knowing you like boys. But your mom? Moms are always the first to know. Hell, my mom told _me_. I bet if you told her you were seeing me, she’d help us by keeping Lottie and Fizzy away.”

Louis isn’t so sure. “My mum does not know! I’ve been hanging around with a girl called Eleanor for a year now and Mum goes on and on about what pretty babies we’ll make some day.”

“Trust me, she knows,” Harry says, tucking himself back into his jeans. He kisses Louis on the cheek, then on the forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Louis fumes. “Isn’t it the party you’ve invited Lottie to?”

Harry’s grin could like up a room. “Distraction technique. There is a party, but I won’t be there. Nor will you. We’re going to my house. Mom and Gemma are away. I thought we could just. Be alone?”

\---

The following morning, Johanna decides she’s not spent enough time with her first born baby and shoos Dan and the kids away so she can go for a breakfast date, off the resort’s property, with Louis. “I’ve not seen much of you in the last several weeks. How are you enjoying the summer?”

“”S all right, I suppose.” Louis stares at the bacon on his plate.

“You’ve played footie every day?”

Louis nods. “And been with you at the classes for the babies.”

“You’ve also been hanging round Harry a bit.”

Her comment confounds Louis for a split second. And then. “Well, he’s really the only bloke around here my age.”

“Hmm.”

Louis is annoyed. “What ‘hmm’ Mum?”

Johanna smiles peacefully at Louis. “How long, then?”

Louis really shouldn’t have taken a bite of his bacon just now. He chokes. “What?”

“How. Long. Then? How long have you been sneaking around with him, Louis. I’ve got eyes, haven’t I?” 

Oh hell. Harry is going to be absolutely insufferable, isn’t he? He said Louis’ mum knew and now it appears as though he was right. Damn it all. He sighs heavily. “He said you knew. Couple of weeks, I s’pose. Kissed the night of that party right after we got here.”

His mum laughs, loud and long. “Of course I knew, you idiot! I said I’ve got eyes. You don’t exactly hide it well when you’re checking him out.” She reaches for Louis, placing her hand over his. “It’s okay, Lou. I love you no less. I just wish you’d told me earlier is all.”

He hangs his head. “I know. But you go on and on about the pretty babies Ele and I will make, so I thought you’d be upset.” 

“‘Course you’d make pretty babies. You’d make pretty babies with anyone! My handsome boy.” She pats his cheek. “So,” she says conspiratorily. “How can I help?”

\---

Turns out, Harry isn’t so insufferable when Louis shares his mum’s revelation. Harry does, however, bring Louis to the brink of coming by rutting up against him, then kisses him on the forehead and says they’ll have more time for that tonight. When Louis visits Harry’s house. And probably sleeps over. 

Because, as Harry suggested, Johanna is all for helping the boys avoid Louis’ pesky sisters. She’s already thought up an excuse for why Louis is going to leave the party with Harry shortly after Lottie arrives. Louis has a stomach bug, you see, and Harry is being a good friend by taking Louis home with him instead of back to the resort. His house is closer because the party is off resort property, after all. 

Louis is positively vibrating with anticipation. 

He’s been at the party for about thirty minutes when Lottie arrives, one of her summer friends in tow. The two of them giggly madly when Harry approaches them and says hello, kissing Lottie’s cheek. 

Lottie spots Louis shortly after Harry wanders away from her. Right. Show time.

“Lou.” Lottie’s voice is cool. Strained. She is not happy at all to see her brother here. She assumes he’ll bloke block her. 

He will, just not the way she assumes. 

“Hello Charlotte.”

Lottie practically growls at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited,” Louis sniffs. “I have got friends here. Think I’ll head out soon, though. I don’t think dinner agreed with me.” He pats his stomach for good measure. “Been feeling queasy all evening.”

Lottie’s face falls. “I’m sorry big brother. Want me to go back with you?”

Louis shakes his head. “No, have fun.” He watches as Lottie walks toward Harry and thinks it might be love. Harry is standing just outside of the restroom. 

Louis gives it exactly two minutes before he sprints toward them, ignoring his sister’s call as the restroom door slams behind him. He fakes a few retches and coughs when he hears the door open and Harry call out in the best worried voice Louis has ever heard. 

Louis throws some water on his face, flings his arm around Harry’s shoulders, and leans heavily as they exit. His head is resting on Harry’s shoulder and the smile is nearly impossible to resist when Harry tells Lottie that his place is close and Louis is free to rest there for the night. He’s noncommittal when Lottie asks if he’s coming back. 

He’s definitely not coming back. 

Mindful of the people watching, Harry loads Louis into his car and drives away slowly. So as not to disturb Louis any more than necessary of course.

Once they’ve rounded the corner, Harry drives like someone’s lit a fire under his arse. They pull up to an adorable cottage just off the beach not three minutes after leaving the party. 

Louis thinks he must buy his mum something shiny for her help.

Harry is on Louis the moment they’re out of the car. Neither of them cares about being in the open. It’s dark, and there isn’t anyone on the street. 

Louis knows his lips will be swollen and bruised from Harry’s attack on them and he just cannot find a single fuck to give. He’s enjoying the punishment Harry’s mouth is delivering on his own. 

Stumbling awkwardly - Harry won’t take his mouth off of Louis’ - they make their way to the front stoop. Harry fumbles with his keys, all the while licking into Louis’ mouth like it’s the only thing he wants to do for the rest of forever. How he manages to find the correct key and open the door, Louis doesn’t know. He also doesn’t care. 

Harry slams the door closed and pushes Louis up against the wall just inside. His hands are everywhere, and he only stops kissing Louis when breathing becomes necessary. Even then, his tongue and lips work up and down Louis’ neck. 

Louis ruts up against Harry, desperate for friction. His cock is positively aching in his jeans and all he wants it to feel. Louis reaches for Harry’s button, but his hand is swatted away. “Fuck Harold. Let me at your cock.”

Harry mumbles into Louis’ neck, “No,” then goes back to kissing and sucking. 

_Fuck it_ , Louis thinks. If Harry is insisting on doing all of the work, then Louis will enjoy it. “You should do the work here,” he says conversationally, letting out a low breath when Harry lifts his t-shirt and licks his nipple. “‘S your fault my cock is this hard anyway.”

Harry pulls back and looks at Louis. His pupils are blown out so much Louis can barely see the green he enjoys so much. “Get to it then,” Louis goads, waving a hand toward his crotch.

It isn’t a mistake, per se, but Harry willingly accepts the challenge Louis has just presented. His hands make quick work of Louis’ button and zipper, and before Louis knows quite what is happening, Harry is on his knees and sucking Louis’ cock into his mouth. 

“Fuuuuuuuck.” It’s the only thing Louis can think, let alone say. “Oh fuck, Harry. Your mouth is so good.” And it is. Louis has only had a few fumbling blowies back home. Harry is a fucking _expert_. “Gonna make me come like this?” Louis taunts.

Harry hums around Louis’ dick and reaches a hand up to wrap around the length that isn’t in his mouth. His other hand cups Louis’ balls and fuck, that feels amazing.

Before Louis quite knows what’s happening, his stomach is tensing and he knows he’s going to come sooner than later. He tugs Harry’s hair, trying to indicate what’s going on, but it seems as though Harry doesn’t care. When Harry swallows around the head of Louis’ cock, Louis goes off. It feels like he’ll never stop coming. 

He does, though, and he collapses to the floor. He’s amazed he stood that entire time, but he’s exhausted now and just wants to curl around Harry and sleep. Harry’s collapsed with Louis and his curls are tickling the inside of Louis’ thigh.

Louis strokes Harry’s hair for several quiet minutes and then starts laughing. Harry sits up with a satisfied smile on his face. “What you laughing at?”

Louis only laughs harder, gesturing down at where his now soft dick is still hanging out. “I think that went well, don’t you?” 

Harry laughs too. Standing, he pulls Louis to his feet and waits patiently while Louis pulls his pants and jeans up. Then Harry takes Louis by the hand and leads him down the hallway to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::peeks out from behind hands:: I hope you liked it.


	3. Chapter 3

“Brilliant, wasn’t I?” Louis smirks at Harry. They’ve just had a solid round of one on one footie and Louis is feeling rather full of himself. The weather is shit today, and no one else came to the pick up match, so Harry challenged Louis. Louis’ reward hasn’t been determined yet, though. 

Harry tackles Louis to the mud and is very close to kissing Louis when they hear voices just around the corner. “Shit,” Harry murmurs into Louis’ neck. “It’s your sisters.”

Louis sighs and is definitely tempted to let Lottie and Fizzy discover he and Harry is this position. But he’s kept them out of it this long, so. He reluctantly untangles himself from Harry and is absolutely failing at brushing the mud from his kit when the girls appear. “‘Ello, Lou. ‘Ello, Harry,” they say in sync. 

Louis pulls Harry to his feet then heads to hug his sisters who run like holy terrors because they don’t want to be covered in mud. Harry looks quite uncomfortable and grabs the back of his neck. “Hey Lottie. Sorry for not making it back to the party the other night.” He gestures at Louis. “This one was really rather ill.”

Louis nods solemnly. “Felt like rubbish that whole night.”

Harry shoots a glare at Louis. “And look. I’m sorry if you thought, well. I don’t know what you thought, but I can imagine. The thing is, is I do like you. You’re a great girl. I just don’t. Well, I don’t really like you the way I think you assumed. I’m sorry.”

Lottie shrugs. “Kind of figured. It’s all right. You are a fit bloke, though, and the girl who snaps you up will be a lucky lady.”

Louis’ eyes grow wide and he stares at Harry over Lottie’s head. They’d talked about how this would go; Louis told Harry he shouldn’t lead Lottie on any longer and Harry thought she’d be spitting mad. That she isn’t surprises both of them - pleasantly so. 

Louis throws his one mostly clean arm around Lottie. “All right then?”

“Fine, Lou. We just came to let you know Mum asked that you get ready for dinner in time to join us this evening. She’s sore you’ve been late the last week or so.”

Harry laughs loudly. “Get out of here, Louis. Wouldn’t want to upset your mum now, would you?”

\---

“I want to take you out.”

“What do you mean? We go out all the time.”

“No, like. What would you call it? A proper date? I want to take you on a proper date.”

Louis’ eyes grow wide. This is big. Harry is pretty well out. Everyone knows he likes blokes. Louis only has his mum to chat to about anything. But fuck it. He wants to go out with Harry. Wants to know what it feels like before. Well. Before. “Okay.” 

Harry’s grin is practically blinding. “Okay. Good.”

\---

It’s two days later when Harry slips a piece of paper onto Louis’ omelette plate. It reads, “Hi. Meet me in the employee parking lot at 11:30. Bring a jumpa.”

Louis is confused, but thrilled. And then he remembers it’s his night to watch the babies while mum and Dan have a date and his sisters go off to have fun. He’s scowling at the note when Johanna comes to breakfast. “What’s the matter?”

Louis sighs and pushes his hair out of his face. “It’s nothing. Only. No, it’s nothing.”

Jay snatches the paper out of his hand. “Ah,” she says. “I see. You’re going.” She says this as if it’s already been decided. 

“Can’t,” Louis says dejectedly. “It’s my night with the babies.”

She waves a hand. “This resort has literally everything, Louis. I can put the babies in with the sitting service for one night. Worked perfectly fine for all of the girls over the years, didn’t it?”

Louis thinks maybe he’s never loved his mum as much as he loves her in this moment. He shakes off the terrible selfish feeling and throws himself into a full body hug against Jay. Sloppily kissing her on the cheek, he declares her the best and tells her how much he loves her. He shyly looks to where Harry is standing behind the omelette bar and nods. 

The date is nothing big. Harry takes Louis to the bowling alley, where they play and Louis gives Harry a rash of shit for writing “jumpa” in the note and making fun of his accent. Then he tries to do an American accent when he’s ordering food and ruins the joke by calling them chili cheese chips instead of fries. 

Louis also pouts about the stupid drinking laws in America. He remembers well what happened the last time he had a slightly tipsy Harry to himself. He’d very much like to relive that moment a few times before the end of summer, thanks.

There is no place for those thoughts. Not now. Not when Harry’s driven them to a cliff overlooking the ocean and has his hands in Louis’ hair and his tongue in Louis’ mouth. Louis sighs into Harry’s kiss because honestly, he’s trying like hell not to realize he knows exactly how much time they’ve got left. 

Three weeks, four days, and a few hours, give or take. 

Unbidden, the tears start forming at the corners of Louis’ eyes. Of bloody course Harry notices them right away, too. 

Brushing the tears away from his cheeks, Harry asks, “Baby, why are you crying?” Louis is taken aback. It’s the first time Harry’s ever called him anything but Louis. 

He sniffs. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Please go back to kissing me. Harder, actually,” he asks, all prim and proper. “I’d especially like it if you’d fondle me a bit. Give me something to dream about tonight, yeah?”

The concern is still written all over Harry’s face as he presses his lips softly to Louis’. He keeps the kiss slow and gentle, nothing like what Louis has requested. It’s as though Harry knows precisely what is on Louis’ mind and several moments later, Harry pulls away, sniffing himself. 

“Don’t start that now,” Louis says firmly. “If we start that we’ll spend the next several weeks doing it, and that will ruin any fun we might have in the mean time.”

Harry scrubs his hand over his face and nods. “Yeah. No crying. Not now.”

“Not _ever_ ,” Louis insists, knowing full well he’ll be sobbing into his pillow each night for the next month, at least. 

Harry laughs. “Not stupid enough to make that promise, babe.”

\---

“No.”

“C’mon, mate! It will be fun!”

“Not happening. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.” Harry’s mouth is in a thin line and he looks like he’ll be ill any second. That’s just at the thought of going on a roller coaster with Louis. 

“What if I agree to make it worth your while?”

Harry’s eyes narrow in this just. Absolutely adorable manner. He’s obviously trying to figure out what Louis will offer to get him on the coaster. 

“You’ll have to get on with me to find out.”

Harry groans. He doesn’t care for roller coasters at all, but he cares for Louis and damnit. He’s a puddle of mush when it comes to Louis. Why would anything change now? He sighs heavily. “Fine, I’ll get on the damned roller coaster with you.”

Louis makes the ride absolutely worth Harry’s while. Louis knows all sorts of silly tricks, like putting a knee up to prevent the lap bar from coming all the way down. He’s also become quite adept at unfastening Harry’s trousers in the last several weeks. So halfway up the first hill, Louis has Harry’s dick in his hand and he’s stroking like his life depends on it. 

Fast and furious, just like the boardwalk attraction, Louis pulls at Harry’s cock until he’s coming in thick spurts into the napkins Louis has taken from his pocket. Just as the train is pulling back into the loading dock, Louis tucks Harry back into his jeans and pats him gently on the crotch. “Hope that was as fun for you as it was for me, darling,” he smirks.

For a brief second, Harry thinks he may actually like roller coasters now. The thought is fleeting, though. No, roller coasters are not his thing even if they do come with a fantastic hand job.

\---

Louis has been dreading this day for weeks. It’s his last night. He’s going home tomorrow and for the first time in forever, he doesn’t want to go home. He tries like hell not to pout as he gets ready for his last date with Harry. He absolutely doesn’t break down when he tells his mum where he’s going and says goodbye. It’s not like him to be a mess over a boy. 

Or is it? He really doesn’t know, does he? This is the first time he’s ever felt this way. 

Harry picks Louis up and they drive around for hours. It seems as though Harry is hitting all of the significant spots in their. Relationship? Is that what this has been? Louis doesn’t know that it’s ever gotten to the point where he’d call Harry his boyfriend, but. That isn’t what summer flings are about. Is it? 

If fictional works are to be believed, summer flings are all about having fun. You hook up, you have fun, you move on when you go back to your respective homes. 

Fictional works can kiss Louis’ arse. He’s got tears in his eyes when Harry drives them back to the cliff where they sat just a few weeks ago and declared they weren’t going to cry over this. Harry shuts off the car and they sit there for a while, not talking, fingers interlaced. They’re both sniffling.

“We’ll email and text and call and Facebook and WhatsApp and all of that?” Harry’s voice cracks. 

Louis can’t speak. He only nods. When he looks to Harry, green eyes are filled to the brim with tears. Then they fall. And Harry is sobbing. Uncontrollably. They both are. They cling to each other, kissing through the tears, stroking hair and skin. 

After nearly three hours, they’re both relatively calm and Harry reluctantly starts his car and takes Louis back to the resort. Just as they’re pulling into the parking lot, Harry’s iPod shuffles again. 

“Lou, Dance with me.” Harry’s out of the car and pulling open Louis’ door before Louis can even respond. 

“To John Mayer? Like hell I am.” 

Grateful Harry’s ignored him, Louis settles his cheek against Harry’s chest. They dance slowly, Harry humming into Louis’ hair. And then he’s whispersinging a line in Louis’ ear as the music swells around them. “There, I just said it. I’m scared you’ll forget about me.”

Louis pulls back and Harry kisses him so, so tenderly. They kiss until the song is nearly over, and again, Harry whispersings the last few lines with tears is his beautiful eyes. “I want you so bad I’ll go back on the things I believe. There, I just said it. I’m scared you’ll forget about me.”

Louis kisses Harry one more time, tells him, “I love that song, actually. Bye for now, darling. I won’t, you know. Forget you,” then turns to walk away. The whole way back to his room Louis refuses to cry. It’s a majestic super power he’s been perfecting all summer. 

But when the door to his room is closed and he’s downloaded the song and been listening to it on repeat for twenty minutes, the tears come like a waterfall. He’s clutching his pillow and scream sobbing into so hard that he doesn’t hear the door click open. And then Lottie has him wrapped in her arms. 

“Shh, Lou. It’s okay. Some girl break your heart just before we’re set to leave?” 

Louis is aghast. Lottie truly has no idea he’s been carrying on with Harry all summer. “Boy. A beautiful boy. I can’t believe I’m leaving him. He’s adorable and quirky and awkward and amazing and. I think I might be in love with him. Shit shit shit shit. This is. Weird. Fuck all, Lottie.”

Lottie smiles gently. “Knew you were a knob jockey. It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

At the sound of his name, Louis sobs. “Yeah. I’m in love with Harry Styles. Stupid, beautiful American boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue left, lovelies.


	4. Chapter 4

Louis has been looking at flights on his computer and mobile for the last week. Which isn’t saying much. The family’s only been home five days when you take into account the lost day for travel. 

Mum and Dan and the girls are all settling wonderfully into life after holiday. Louis is having a much more difficult time. Lottie and Jay know what’s going on with Louis, but the rest of the family? They assume he’s having a rough go of it with jet lag.

If they only knew. 

It’s Lottie who finally tells him to man up and just buy the damn ticket already. He listens to his 16 year old sister and doesn’t regret handing her his credit card to purchase the ticket for him at all. He’s too thrilled that he’ll be back in Harry’s arms soon to care. 

He feels like he fails miserably at hiding his excitement from Harry. Harry will be so surprised. Louis accidentally spills a few times when he texts about taking courses online next term and has to scramble for a reason when Harry asks why. His mum also nearly gives it away one night when he and Harry are Skyping; she comes into Louis’ room and asks him if he needs any more laundry done before he starts packing. 

The day of Louis’ trip, Harry is suspiciously quiet. Then he remembers that school’s started up for Harry today and brushes the radio silence off. Harry must be busy in class. 

Jay and Lottie accompany Louis to Heathrow. They’re struggling to get the suitcase out of the boot when Jay gasps and drops it on Louis’ toe. “Ouch, Mum. Trying to injure me so I won’t leave? That’s low, innit?” 

Lottie’s face lights up like a marquee when she sees what Jay’s seen. “You’ve both gone completely mental, haven’t you? I’ll be back in a month. And hopefully I’ll bring you another lad to eat all of the food in the-” Louis stops mid sentence and rubs his eyes. 

Surely he’s seeing things. That cannot be Harry walking out of the terminal. This isn’t even the correct side of the terminal for him to be arriving. Unless. Louis whirls around. “You two.”

Jay and Lottie fix their faces in perfect masks of disbelief. “What?” they ask simultaneously. 

Louis throws his arms around them, squeezes tight, then pushes off of them to run to Harry. 

Harry, who is such a sight for sore eyes. Harry, who is here, in England. Harry, the boy he loves. “What are you? I can’t believe you. How?” Louis rambles. 

Harry laughs quietly into Louis’ ear. “Last minute study abroad application. When Lottie saw it on my Facebook, she made me take the post down immediately and started working on trying to get you to buy a ticket to America.” He can’t seem to hold back anymore and kisses Louis firmly on the mouth. 

Louis hugs Harry closer, tighter, more. Harry’s _here_. Louis smiles to himself, then reaches up to whisper in Harry’s ear, “I love you. And I knew you were a prat, Harold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Belated Christmas, T. 
> 
> Hope you loved it. <3


End file.
